Her hands shake a little.

She doesn't know how to do this. How on earth did her mom do it? Just spill the news at the dinner table or whisper it into her dad's ear in bed?

She turns at the end of the living room, pacing back toward the kitchen. Her hands run over her hair, tugging on the ends as she looks at the clock on the microwave. He's gonna be home anytime now – the man runs on a schedule like he was in the military – and she has no clue what she's going to do.

A sweeping declaration or a quiet one?

But then the door opens and her hands fall from her neck and just blurts it out.

"We're pregnant."

His briefcase falls onto the hardwood. "What?" he asks, blinking at her.

"We're pregnant," she repeats slowly. "And I obviously screwed up this whole reveal thing so…" She turns to go down the hall but his hand is gentle on her elbow, spinning her back to him.

"You're sure?" he says, tipping her head up even as she tries to hide her eyes.

"Yeah. Went to the doctor today," she murmurs. "Wanted to be certain this time after the last three tries."

He kisses her softly, fingers curling around her shoulders to pull her tight against his chest. "Oh, Jo. You didn't screw anything up."

She has tears in her eyes when he lifts her up so that her legs link at the small of his back around his waist. "Sure feels like it. Didn't you want, I don't know, a big deal of it or something?" she asks as he walks toward their room. "Because we've tried for so long and now that it's real, shouldn't it be a huge moment?"

He lays her down on their unmade bed – they were both running late that morning and never got around to making it – and runs his fingers over her cheeks. "You're enough," he whispers over her lips. "You're going to be such a good mom."

"I'm gonna screw something up."

"Definitely."

She shoves at his shoulder. "It's gonna be a girl." When he raises a brow, she smiles. "I just know."

"Well I'm voting for a boy then."

She has a bet to make, sitting right on her tongue, but he wipes it out of her mind when his fingers start to dance along the skin under her shirt.

Seven months later, the baby girl is born right on time, already inheriting her father's punctuality. And as the three of them squeeze together on the hospital bed, Johanna turns her head to brush a quiet, sleepy kiss across her husband's jaw.

"I told you so."

He smiles. "Feel like I'm gonna be hearing more of those words in the future."

"Count on it," she sighs, already looking back at the baby.